Cake

My dad got me taken by Canadian border patrol when I was 5 because they thought he was smuggling chocolate into the country. My parents, my siblings and I, were passing through Canada to reach Alaska. At the border, the patrol were asking dad typical questions for someone entering. Any firearms? No. Fireworks? No. Chocolate? My dad just yells out CHOCOLATE?! REALLY?! Well… maybe we got some chocolate cake left in the fridge but CHOCOLATE?!. Patrol surrounded our camper and had dogs sniff around the car. They found the cake, several bars of chocolate, and unmarked beef. We all got out of the camper and patrol picked me up and walked off with me. They started questioning me separate from my family in a room. I remember the ceiling was white and the bottom half of the walls was brown. They asked me who the people in the car were. I told them it was my family. That my dad was the one driving. Patrol asked if they had kidnapped me and to not be afraid they would take me back to my real family. I told them again that he was my dad and that was my family. During this they are questioning my family in a different room asking for ID for my older siblings. My sister had a school id and my brother pulled out a picture of goofy. Patrol got annoyed and realized they weren’t getting far with us. We were all just a dumb family wasting their time. They took all our chocolate and meat in the camper then let us go. They insisted that my dad wasn’t my dad. About 23 years later, I do a dna test and find out patrol was in fact, correct.